


A Debt Is A Debt, And Must Be Paid

by creatureofhobbit



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creatureofhobbit/pseuds/creatureofhobbit
Summary: How Prince James went from the child seen in the flashbacks of Murder Most Foul to the man he eventually became.





	

He had been a fool to admit to Cruella the real reason he had always hated his twin brother, he had known it as soon as he saw the look on her face. Cruella had said something stupid about how Mummy was going to make it all better (God, how he hated when she called herself that!).

James had never thought about the possibility of the time coming when Cruella actually repeated it to David. Maybe because he hadn’t expected it to happen that he ever saw David again, or at least not for a long time to come. Or maybe he just hadn’t thought Cruella would be that stupid as to bring it up. But once she had said it, James knew he had to tell David that Cruella had it wrong, just so that he wouldn’t lose face in front of his brother. For it was true that he hated David because David was the one who was kept, who got to grow up with his birth family.

 

“The man was a drunk, and a fool,” King George had snapped when James had returned to him. “Probably crazy. Of course you’re not his son, and you haven’t got a brother. Your mother and I are your parents, and we always will be.” But James had not been convinced by his explanation. James had never felt that he belonged with the Royal family. The son that King George made it clear he wanted him to be, the knight who was going to save their kingdom in battle, that wasn’t him. And he didn’t even think he looked anything like them. But the man at Pleasure Island, the man who had told James that he was his father, who had said he would take him home so he could get to meet his brother…James had looked at him and had instantly believed it, had wanted to follow this man despite the fact that he had never met him before. And as for the brother he had talked about…James had always wondered what it would be like to have someone his own age to play with, someone who would understand him, someone he could talk to about the pressures he faced in trying to be the son King George wanted him to be, knowing all the time that he was not. For one moment, James had imagined that he could escape from this life he was forced to lead, and now it looked like that was not to be.

“He’ll find me,” James had tried to argue. “And he’ll come back for me, and I’m going to go with him.”

“That’s not going to happen, my son,” King George began, and James had asked “But why?”

“Because the man is dead!” King George had burst out, then seeing the look on James’s face, had immediately softened his expression. “I had never intended to tell you this. I had hoped that you would just forget all about the man and never bring it up again. But word was brought to me that the day after you were brought back home, he was found a few miles away. He was obviously drunk, and he’d crashed into the side of the road. You won’t ever have to worry about him coming back for you again.”

But that couldn’t be right, James thought. He’d seen drunks before, although when it had happened his parents had hastened to get him away from them, and the man hadn’t seemed anything like that. But he didn’t argue with King George, and instinctively knew that he should never mention the man again. Yet James never stopped thinking about him, wondering whether there had been any truth in his story every time he felt once again that he didn’t fit in with King George’s world, imagining what his life would have been if the story had been true, if he had grown up with a twin brother, with different parents, not having to constantly worry about having to take over as king one day and fearing he was never going to be good enough.

 

They came to him to tell him that the Queen was very sick, that she wanted to see James one last time so she could say goodbye.

King George was not there when James was brought in; his mother had requested that she have some time with him alone.

“Mother?” James whispered, taking a tentative scared step towards the bed, half of him feeling like turning round and running straight back out of there.

“My son,” Queen Isabella whispered. “It is time for me to tell you the truth. When you asked your father if you were adopted…it’s true. I was unable to have children of my own…your father went to the imp Rumplestiltskin, who knew of a couple who were desperately poor…he paid them a lot of money…”

“So the man at Pleasure Island…he really was my father?” James asked. “And did I really have a brother, like he said?”

“Isabella!” came a new voice; James spun around to see King George standing in the doorway. “James, please leave the room.”

“But we were talking!” James pleaded, but King George remained firm. “This conversation is over.”

James knew when he was beaten, and ran from the room. But he was determined to go back and ask his mother the next day, see if he could find out any more from her about his birth family, whether he really did have a brother.

He never got that chance. The next morning, he awoke to find his father by his bedside, there to tell him that his mother had died.

“You did something,” James accused King George. “She was about to tell me the truth about my real family, and you stopped her from telling me. Now she’s never going to get the chance.”

“Do you understand what you are saying, boy?” King George hissed. “I would think very carefully before making that remark in public.”

He did understand, and he knew that the best course of action for him was to drop the accusations against King George. He could never prove anything, after all, would never know whether it was a coincidence that the Queen had died before she got the chance to tell James any more about his birth family or whether King George had taken steps to silence her. But as time went on, as he had more time to think about things, he began to realise that he was angry with everyone involved: King George, for having bought him in the first place as though he were some commodity that could be sold. One day, in a moment of anger, King George had snapped that if he hadn’t paid Rumplestiltskin so much money for James, maybe the kingdom wouldn’t be in quite as much debt as it was, and he brought this line out again when he was first approaching King Midas to ask for money. James had wanted to say that if he felt like that maybe King George shouldn’t have bought him, but left him where he was, but instead he had bitten his tongue. 

For he was angry with his birth family as well, for having chosen to hand him over to King George for money, and for having kept his brother. Why had they not chosen to refuse the king’s money and keep him as their own, to love him and care for him as they had his twin, allowed the two to grow up together as brothers? Or why had they chosen to give James away while keeping the other with them? Why was his twin the one who had grown up with the love of his family instead of being forced into this life he did not want?

James would probably never know. His birth father was dead and so was the Queen; in all likelihood he would never meet his birth mother and brother. And by now he was no longer sure he wanted to; what was the point of meeting them, of forming attachments to them, all along knowing that he was second best, not good enough to be kept by their parents; what was the use of loving at all? It was easier for him to keep up the front with King George in front of their kingdom and when other royalty visited. And if material possessions were more important to James’s family than he, their son, then maybe they should matter more to him, too. “I have a kingdom to run, I’m sure you understand,” had been his parting words to Jack, who had been a pleasant distraction, although nothing more to him, and he had never imagined that he meant anything to her, either. He’d get on with the life he was intended for, prepare for running the kingdom, and as for other people, he had no need for anyone in his life, no need to care for anyone. James would put himself first: that was all the world had done to him.


End file.
